Clueless
by Trinity Day
Summary: Lily Potter has managed to her new husband tickets to one of the most anticipated Quidditch matches of the year. It would be a dream come true for James, if it weren't for one, minor detail...


**Clueless  
by Trinity Day**

**Summary: Lily Potter has managed to her new husband tickets to one of the most anticipated Quidditch matches of the year. It would be a dream come true for James, if it weren't for one, minor detail...**

**Notes: ****This was written for Tove, who told me I should write more Lily/James fanfic. I got this wonderful idea for a drabble. When I started writing it, I realized that I probably wasn't going to fit it all into a hundred words. 3507 words later, I was proved right.**

**Thanks go to my betas, Autumn, Molly and Whitney. For the most part, their comments and suggestions were very helpful. Then there was Whitney, who thought I should change the name from Whitsuntide Classic to Whitney Classic...**

**It is not their fault, obviously, if the drunken scene isn't quite true to life. Like a good little author, I've tried to research. Yet, somehow, no matter how many times I get drunk myself, I never seem to be able to Perhaps more practice is necessary. (Incidentally, if there's funny wording in it, that's more to do with my trying to convey that they're drunk than anything else.)**

**I have removed my tongue from my cheek to say one last bit. Whitsuntide - or, as it is now more commonly known, Whit Monday - is, to the best of my knowledge, a bank holiday in May. It used to be religious but isn't anymore. I picked it at random, mostly because Labour Day, which is when I kept trying to set this story, doesn't actually occur in Britain.**

Posted: Sunday, April 25, 2004

"Hullo, James," Lily said, one evening when she arrived home from work. "You'll never guess what happened to me today."

As James came into the front hall to greet her, he guessed, "You broke a nail?" He kissed her, a small part of him wondering at the fact that they were now married and he could do this every time either of them came home to their (_their_!) house.

"James!" Lily whined. "I wouldn't very well make a fuss about _that_. Think bigger."

"All right." James pretended to give it a little more thought, tapping his finger against his lips in mock concentration. In reality, he was too busy looking at Lily, admiring the way her hair had come loose in her rush to come home and give him the good news, whatever it might be. "A goat got into the office and you spent the day chasing after it."

"No, not this time," Lily said, too excited to try to smack him, her usual response when James referred to The Goat Incident. A large, foolish grin, quite untypical of the usually serious Lily, threatened to take over her face. "This was even bigger."

Tired of guessing, James made up last flippant statement in hopes that it would make Lily just come out and tell him her announcement. "Voldemort decided that he was really sorry for killing and terrorizing everyone, and that all he really wanted to do was fight for the equality of witches and wizards everywhere, regardless of their blood."

"James, be serious!"

"I give up," James said. "What happened at work today?"

"I got tickets for that big Quidditch game on Monday," Lily said, beaming proudly.

James' jaw dropped as he stared at her with no small amount of disbelief. "You got tickets for the Whitsuntide Classic?" he asked. He was almost afraid for her to answer because he knew it could only be a joke. "You're serious? The Whitsuntide Classic. It's one of the biggest Quidditch events of the year!"

Lily laughed at her husband's predictable response. "I told you it was big," she said.

Unable to contain his excitement any longer – not that he had been doing a good job up until then – James picked up Lily and whirled her around in joy. "I love you. You are amazing. How did you get tickets? It's been sold out for months!"

"Well, you remember The Goat Incident," Lily said.

"How could I forget?" James asked, his mouth quirking as he fought to keep from laughing even at the memory. It was, in his opinion, one of the most memorable first days on the job in existence – and one of the most hilarious, even if at the time Lily had been in tears while telling him what had happened. She really hadn't appreciated the fact that he had been doubled over, howling with laughter.

Lily's eyes narrowed slightly, noticing his failed attempt to keep from smiling. She still didn't like that James found her traumatic first day to be so funny. "Right. Anyway, I told you how Gordon Underhill was blamed for it, but I figured out it had really been an accident?"

James nodded absentmindedly, still trying to keep from chuckling at the memory of The Goat Incident.

"Well he was so grateful that I saved his job that he's been trying to make it up to me ever since. I mentioned that you love Quidditch and it turns out his wife works for the League, so he promised to get me tickets," Lily explained.

"I love Gordon Underhill!" James exclaimed. "I love his wife! And I love _you_ more than anything!" He wrapped his arms around her again, hugging as hard as he could.

"Thank you for loving me best," Lily said, her voice slightly muffled. "Or is Quidditch in first place?"

"You are. I love you. You're the best wife _ever_," James proclaimed. He let go of her briefly just to hug her again, his elation too great not to share with his wife.

"I'm sure you tell that to all the girls who get you Quidditch tickets," Lily teased, shaking herself out of his embrace.

"It's not just any Quidditch tickets – it's tickets to the Whitsuntide Classic! That's not just any game, Lil, it's the most anticipated game of the year!"

Lily laughed. "Yes, James. I think I've figured that out by now. But I'm glad you're happy."

"Happy? Of course I'm happy. I'm _ecstatic_. I'm _delighted_. I'm – " Words failed him. All he could do was picked her up and spin her again.

"You're babbling, dear," Lily said. "But really. I was worried. Gordon's wife wasn't sure she'd be able to get tickets. Luckily, you like the Cannons. Gordon was mentioning that most people aren't willing to watch them anymore, even if they are playing the Harpies. They're going through a bit of a losing streak, I gather."

James' arms dropped. "What?" He had stopped listening as soon as she mentioned the Cannons. She couldn't possibly mean –

But she did. Lily hadn't seemed to notice that her husband's smile had become oddly fixed on his face, that his speechlessness, while still caused by overwhelming shock, no longer seemed to exude joy. She continued, "I'm not clueless, you know. I do pay _some_ attention to you when you start going on about Quidditch."

"You do?" Under the circumstances, James was willing to argue that point.

"Of course I do," Lily said. She was still ignoring all signs of James' despair. "You talk about the Cannons all the time."

"I do?" James asked.

"James, don't be silly," Lily said, kissing him on his cheek. "I'm glad you're happy. I was worried I wouldn't get tickets to the Cannons game. Gordon did say that he could get tickets to the Tornados game if this fell through, but I knew you'd be devastated if I'd had the chance to get you tickets to your favourite team and turned them down." She seemed completely oblivious to the irony of her statement.

And still she went on. "Actually, Gordon was quite surprised when I told him your favourite team was the Cannons. It seems that they aren't that popular anymore. They lose a lot."

"Yes. They do," James said faintly. "You got me tickets to the Cannons and Harpies game? Instead of the Tornados and Falcons one?"

Lily smiled another one of her gorgeous smiles, although the effect on him was less heart stopping than normal. "I'm so glad you're happy. It _is_ supposed to be the best match of the year."

"Yes," James said, his voice sounding very hollow to his own ears. He couldn't imagine how Lily could miss the complete lack of lustre. "The best match of the year."

"You look so surprised, dear," she said, kissing him on the cheek again before heading into the kitchen. She called back, "Honestly, James, I'm not completely clueless, you know."

* * *

"And so _then_ she says that I talk about the Cannons all the time. That's how she knew they were my favourite team," James said, nursing his fifth pint of the night. It was hours later, and he had gone through his problem two or three times by this point, but he still wouldn't stop talking about it.

From across the table, Remus squinted at him, then down at his drink again, then back up at him. "You like the Cannons? Aren't they the worst team in the league?"

"No!" James exclaimed.

"Yes," Sirius corrected. He was better off than the others, but that wasn't saying much.

Remus looked back and forth between the two, trying to figure out who was right. In the end, he decided the answer was to take another drink.

James slammed his mug down on the table, causing the beer to slosh over the edges and onto his hand. "The Cannons?" he exclaimed. "You're as bad as Lily."

"I didn't say the Cannons were your favourite team, Prongs," Sirius said, with the patience of a man who was far less drunk than the friend he was dealing with, "I said that the Cannons were the worst team in the league."

"They are!" James exclaimed. He was having difficulties keeping the volume of his voice under control.

"As I was saying," Sirius continued, "The Cannons are the worst team in the league but Lil got it into her head that the Cannons were Prongs' favourite team."

"Doesn't James like the Tornados?" Peter asked, looking terribly confused.

Sirius groaned, deciding that he was entirely too sober compared to the rest of them. "I'm going to go take a piss," he said, standing up.

Whether anyone heard him or not was doubtful, because James had started his diatribe for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. "I _do_! I love the Tornados. They're my favourite."

"Then why'd you switch to the Cannons?" Peter asked, the slight slurring of his words explaining why he was acting so obtuse that night. The others forgave him, this once, mostly because they were mucking things up even worse than he was. "They're a horrible team. No one supports them anymore."

"I don't! Why would I switch to the _Cannons_ of all teams?"

Remus drained the rest of his beer, and then looked down at the glass as if wondering why it was empty. He decided the best remedy for his own lack of drink was to steal the rest of Sirius'.

"So you're going to the Cannons game on Monday," Remus said, showing remarkable canny. "But you don't like the Cannons."

"Right," James said morosely.

"Then why are you going?" Remus asked, hitting the heart of the matter completely by chance.

Sirius had an answer to that, which he was more than willing to share now that he was back. "Because," he said, sliding into the booth, "Prongs is a love-sick idiot."

He reached for his glass only to discover it was empty. Sirius glared at the others, trying to figure out who had finished his drink, but everyone managed to look innocent (except for James, who was banging his glass against the table in indignation again).

"I'm not!" James protested.

"You are too. You're whining and carrying on because your wife doesn't know your favourite Quidditch team. What do you expect? This is Lily we're talking about. I'm surprised she even knows there's a team called the Cannons in the league," Sirius said.

"Padfoot," James whined, "she turned down tickets to the Tornados/Falcon Whitsuntide Classic! How could she?" He couldn't – or wouldn't – get over that point. 

"James?" Sirius asked, innocently enough. The use of James' proper name instead of his nickname might have warned the others, if they their extensive mental expenditures hadn't been solely occupied with themselves upright in their seats. "Come closer."

"What?" James asked, more distracted than curious.

"I've something to tell you. Come here." Sirius beckoned to him.

James leaned in, giving Sirius an excellent opportunity to smack him across the head. "You're an idiot," said Sirius.

"Ow!" James said, holding his head gingerly. "That hurt!"

"You deserved it," Sirius said firmly.

"That wasn't very nice," Peter reprimanded. "You shouldn't have done that, Sirius."

Sirius was unrepentant. "He's been talking about it non-stop ever since we got here. I heard the whole story twice before either of you even arrived. He won't _shut up_ about the bloody Cannons."

Far from being chastised, James took that as a cue to start his rant again. "She thinks my favourite team is the Cannons. What am I going to do?"

"I. Don't. Care," Sirius growled. "Do whatever you want. But _I'm_ going to go get us another round." He got up from the table, muttering under his breath about love-sick idiots all the way to the bar.

"But if the Tornados are playing the Cannons, and you like the Cannons and hate the Tornados, then that's not a problem, is it?" Remus asked, managing the impossible by making the idea even more convoluted in their heads than before.

"He likes the Tornados," Peter corrected before turning to James. "Can't you just cheer for the wrong team? Just this once? It's not like anyone will know the difference. Just cheer for the Tornados. Lily won't know the difference."

"Lily will," James said, either ignoring or forgetting the fact that the others had messed up the line-up for Monday's matches. "She thinks my favourite team is the Cannons. I can never cheer for the Tornados again. Then she'll know that my favourite team isn't the Cannons and then she's know that she got the wrong tickets and _then_ what will she think?"

Remus considered it for a long minute, before declaring, "You're right. You're screwed. There's no winning this one."

Peter patted James on the back in what he considered a comforting manner. "It'll be all right. You'll get used to it … eventually. The Cannons aren't that bad, are they?"

James choked on a sob. Sirius came back, carefully balancing the four mugs. James had the decency to thank him before complaining again. "I'm going to have to get all new stuff. And I hate orange."

"I'm going to regret asking this, but what does orange have to do with any of this?" Sirius asked.

"It's the Cannons' colour," Peter informed him.

"But James still likes the Tornados," Remus said.

"But Lil thinks I like the Cannons," James said.

"And what does this have to do with the colour orange?" Sirius asked.

"I can only wear orange robes now because Lily thinks the Cannons are my favourite team," James said with the solemnity that only a very drunk Quidditch fan could pull off.

"Maybe I'm missing something very obvious, but why can't you just tell Lily that she made a mistake?" Sirius asked.

"I can't do that! She'll be devastated." In an impressive feat of verbal gymnastics, he managed to get out the four-syllable word, only stumbling on it once. "She was so happy that she got me tickets to my match with my favourite team. I can't ruin that for her."

"So instead you're going to pretend that the Cannons is your favourite team? For how long, Prongs?"

"I don't know. How long do you think she'll remember? It can't be that long."

"I don't know," Peter said. "Lily has a long memory. She still brings up that time when she got angry about that thing with Snivellus whenever she gets angry at you, and that was years ago."

"I'm doomed," James wailed.

"No, you're just an idiot," Sirius said and, although he found it hard to believe considering what they'd been through so far that night, the conversation just went downhill from there.

* * *

Lily was curled up on the couch, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other, when the front door flung open to a loud and deafening noise. Alarmed, she automatically reached for her wand, which was never far from her side these days, when she recognized the noise to be singing – or at least the semblance of singing – and the singer to be her husband.

"We used to be best – good – better – good. We have wood brooms. Let's just hope and pray and hope that we can score a goal. Because we're the Cannons."

(In truth, it wasn't all that more cheerful that the Cannons' 'official' song, except the latter tended to rhyme better.

"_We used to be good, on our brooms made of wood.  
We used to be better than the rest;  
But now the world's gone mad, so keep your fingers crossed, lad,  
And pray and hope for the best._")

Lily went into the front hall to greet her wayward husband. He was slumped over and Lily wouldn't be at all surprised if the only thing that kept on his feet was the fact that his arms were slung over Remus and Sirius. Even then, they seemed to have difficulties propping him up. Truth be told, they didn't look that much better than her husband. "Hullo James. Sirius. Remus." She nodded at his friends in turn. "And how are you tonight?"

"Well, they're drunk," Sirius said bluntly.

"And you aren't?" Lily asked with more than a little disbelief.

"Not nearly drunk enough to deal with them."

"Tha's not fair," James protested. " 'm not drunk."

"Right," Lily said, knowing it was pointless to argue with James when he was like this. "Let's get you upstairs."

Sirius and Remus helped James to his room. After that, Sirius and Lily helped Remus to the guest room.

"Where's Peter?" Lily asked. Once James had been deposited face down on their bed, it had become apparent that Remus had only been on his feet because he'd been relying on James for support as much as James had been relying on him. The mutual leaning had been the only thing keeping the two upright. Lily shuddered to think of Peter being alone in his condition.

"We dropped him off first," Sirius said, putting her mind at ease. "It was on the way."

"Weren't you drinking in London?" Lily asked.

"Yes."

"And don't you live in London?" They headed downstairs.

"Again, correct," Sirius said.

"Then how was Peter's flat between the pub and your place?"

"I told you," Sirius said, "I'm the soberest of the lot. You didn't want me dropped off first. Prongs, Moony and Wormtail would have probably convinced the Knight Bus to drop them off at Hogwarts and tried to sneak up into our old room."

"And just how often did that happen while you were at Hogwarts?" Lily asked, torn between looking down at him disapprovingly and laughing at the thought of her husband and his roommates trying to sneak past Filch when they had trouble enough moving one leg forward without forgetting to move the other leg in time to prevent themselves from tripping over their own feet.

Sirius only grinned in response.

"I suppose you're drunk enough to stay the night. I'll make up the couch for you," Lily said as they entered the kitchen, where the half-full pot was sitting on the table.

"The couch? Really? How splendid of you. I'm so lucky to have such friends as yourself," Sirius said.

"Behave," Lily chided. "You did get my husband drunk, after all."

"James got himself drunk," Sirius corrected. "I had nothing to do with it."

"I find that hard to believe," Lily said dryly. She used her wand to reheat the tea. "Want a cuppa?"

Sirius nodded in response, then continued to protest. "No, really. If anyone was responsible for getting James drunk tonight, then it was you."

"Me?" Lily was taken aback. "What did I do?"

She rolled her eyes when he took out some Ogden's Old Firewhiskey to add to the tea, but didn't stop him when he made to pour some in hers as well. "This isn't about the Quidditch match still, is it? He can't still be upset about that."

"He can and he is," Sirius said. "And he's also under the impression that you aren't aware that he's upset."

"You're kidding, right?" Lily asked.

"I kid you not," Sirius said solemnly.

"I can't believe he's still upset about that," Lily said.

"He's decided that to spare your feelings, he's going to have to turn into a Cannons fan. The thought sent him running to hide in even more pints than even I can remember."

Lily shook her head, enjoying the bitter taste the Ogden's added to her tea. Before Sirius, she would have never considered the combination. "Honestly. I love the man and everything, but sometimes he can be such an idiot."

"That's what I've been saying all night," Sirius said. "Do you plan to tell him anytime soon?"

"That he's an idiot? As soon as he wakes up. I'm sure his head will be hurting enough that he won't even think of arguing," Lily said.

"I meant are you going to tell him he doesn't have to get seasons tickets to the Cannons?" asked Sirius. "I'm sure the idiot would do it, too," he added after a brief consideration.

"I'll make sure he doesn't throw out all his Tornadoes memorabilia and replace it with Cannons stuff. He'd look pretty silly at Monday's game wearing orange." She couldn't help a small, knowing smirk from appearing on her face even as she continued to stir her tea.

At first, Sirius didn't get what she was talking about, but a soon the first tendrils of suspicion began to grow in his mind, openly reflected in his face. "You don't mean …?"

Lily nodded, not doing much to stop the grin that was emerging on her face. "Yes, the tickets are actually to the Tornadoes game against the Falcons," she announced, proving to the stunned Sirius that she was at least as devious as any the rest of them. James had always said as much, but his best friend had never believed him.

At Sirius' continued look of utter disbelief, Lily added, "Honestly! I'm not completely clueless!"

The End


End file.
